The Phantom of the 1950s Flop
by Maidenhair
Summary: What if POTO was a lame 1950s play? Bad songs and bad acting...


**The Phantom of the 1950s Flop **

Disclaimer: No, I do not own POTO, okay?

**Prologue**

Outside some building that looks nothing like an opera house:

A Boy and girl are walking together under a very fake moon.

"Gee, Nancy," the boy says, "wasn't that swell?"

"Gosh, Fred, what a night!" she replies.

"Gee, Nancy, you're just the nicest girl I've ever met."

"Gosh, Fred, you're so sweet!"

Fred leaps up on top of a conveniently placed, cement railing and begins to sing and dance. Nancy joins him.

_What a great night!_

_Gosh you look swell,_

_What a great niiiight,_

_Gee, this rings a bell!_

_Somewhere out in the mooonlight,_

_Others are having staaarlight,_

_What a,_

_Great night for a,_

_What a,_

_Great night for a,_

_What a,_

_Great night for a,_

_Spill!_

Nancy and Fred pull a very unconvincing attempt at falling and then begin a highly repetitive tap-dance routine. This lasts for nigh on half an hour. At long last the two stop and sing:

_What a great NIIIGHT!_

Then, an elderly Christine and Raoul enter the odd, cement, not-like-an-opera-at-all place.

"Oh, look at those kids!" Christine points out.

"Aw," Raoul replies, shaking his charming double chin.

"I remember when we were that age," Christine says nostalgically.

"Yes," Raoul agrees, "I remember like it was yesterdee..."

Raoul spins his cane and the world turns blurry. All at once, the audience is transported back in time.

**Overture:**

An obnoxious, peppy, repetitive tune is played over and over again by what seems to be a brass band. The music sounds just like those irritating songs people sometimes play on broken radios at cheesy diners that have names like "Grandma's Porridge House".

People who don't even look as if they are attempting to dress in 1800s garb enter the not-an-opera opera. The interesting thing is that everyone sounds American.

**ACT ONE:**

Carra (Carlotta is too European) is standing on a stage singing something that certainly isn't opera. Instead she is singing in a silly, falsetto voice and trying to look cute in her fur coat and mink stole. Suddenly, Raoul comes in.

Raoul has his hair so full of grease that it looks like a solid mass. His chin, his shoulders, and his persona are squared. His eyes are blue and his hair is dark. The worst thing about him, however, is his preternaturally large mouth that seems permanently fixed into a hideous smile.

"Hello," Raoul says in a deep voice, "I didn't realize that you were practicing."

"Ah, Mr. Chagny!" one of the opera managers cries.

"Raouly!" Carra says in a squeaky voice. She rushes forward and flirts shamelessly.

"Hello," Raoul says again.

"Hey!" Raoul's sidekick, Earl, says. Earl is a very small, geeky person whose only purpose in the show is to allow laughs to be stirred at the expense of the socially inept.

Carra is not interested in Earl and instead bats her eyes at Raoul. "Raouly," she says, "I was just singin' my song. Care to hear?"

The music starts again, as does the frightful singing. Suddenly a shadowy lump slinks across some unknown wall and something is thrown on the stage.

"Eeek!" Carra screams, "A rat!"

Carra runs off the stage in a tizzy.

"Wait!" Raoul calls, half smiling in a way that seems to tell the audience 'I just know I'm cute when I do this', "It's just rubber!"

Carra, being already the long, long distance of five feet away, does not hear him. No one bothers to fetch her either (though who can blame them, her singing was terrible).

The opera managers leap up on the stage. "Oh dear!" they say, "What shall we do without Carra, the diva?"

Instead of doing the reasonable thing and running after the frightened woman, they begin to sing.

_Oh no!_

_Oh dear!_

_Oh mercy me!_

_What's gonna happen now?_

_Goodness, gracious me!_

_Where's the diva,_

_At a powwow?_

_Get me some double gins,_

_Carra's seems to have joined the Injuns!_

Instead of apologizing for the derogatory use of Native Americans, the opera managers stop their 'show stopper' and begin their own tap-dance routine. This also lasts for a dreadfully long period of time.

Finally, after such a long wait that the cast is even beginning to look tired, the song is concluded.

"What will we do?" they ask again.

"Oh!" says Meg, running up, "Christine could sing for you!"

On queue, Christine enters. A soft light surrounds her and the strains of a violin are heard. The strains come at random and are oddly occurring from the orchestra pit. It seems as if one of the violinists suddenly decided, "Alright, that's it, I'm taking up this doohickey and playin' me a song!" The results are not memorable.

Christine walks in perfect, painfully rehearsed, time with the music. Her hair is short, died blond, and styled to 1950s fashion. Her dress is a short skirted, pale pink evening gown made of some light, gauzy material. It has a silly looking rose on the shoulder. On her head there sits a very small had that would complement the features of any Lucy Ball wanna-be. Her face looks dim to the extreme and her lips are in a silly, rosebud shape and plastered with about forty layers of lipstick. A pair of arthritis inducing high-heels throws her back out of line and into the beginning stages of incurable spinal curvature.

Christine walks right up to the stage without even asking what is going on. She smiles and begins singing. Just as remarkable as this seemingly psychic performance is the fact that the entire music ensemble, not just the crazy violinist, plays right along with her in perfect score.

**My Love One Day In May**

_I was walking with my love,_

_One day,_

_Juts like the heavens above, _

_That May,_

_May time, _

_Spring time,_

_That day,_

_Oh, baby,_

_That day,_

_In Maaaaaay!_

Christine begins to stroll about the stage, half-dancing, and half-showing off her shapely curves.

_Woa,_

_Oh, honey, my love is for you!_

_Oh, sweetie, darling,_

_Be true,_

_Dearest, I'm in LOOOOVE..._

_WIIITH..._

_YOOOOOU!_

_Come on Baby, _

_Today..._

_In..._

_Maaaaayyyyyy!_

Instead of throwing Christine off the stage and sewing her mouth closed so that no one ever would have to hear her voice again, the opera managers are impressed. They shout hurray and clap and nod. Much worse than this is the effect the terrible song has upon Raoul. He leaps from his seat (come to think of it, what is Raoul doing here anyway?) and he rushed on stage. He takes Christine in his arms and dances with her; tap-dance of course.

Suddenly the audience is thrown to the future. Christine is on stage in another silly dress and is singing to a huge crowd of people. Well, actually, she is slowly talking and sometimes singing. She is also wandering all over the stage and proving the one in every five people probably do have ADD.

_Oh,_

_On that day in May,_

_Hmm-hmmm,_

_I will be in love again in May,_

_That's my day, honey,_

_Oh, _

_I don't need riches, no,_

_I don't need your money!_

_Give me a kiss,_

_With your two lips,_

_And I'll LOOOVE you!_

A barbershop quartet enters the stage:

_Loving day,_

_Loving day,_

_In May,_

_In May..._

Christine cries out:

_Todaaaaaay!_

The barbers echo:

_Too..._

_Ooo..._

_Ooo..._

_Ooo..._

_DAY!_

To top off the nauseating effects, around fifty girls with beautiful legs and short skirts leap out of boxes and begin doing high kicks.

_IN MAAAAAYYY!_

The crowd is ecstatic. They clap, they cheer, they... must be too drunk to understand what they just saw. The cast bows and bow. No one seems to care that the 'opera' was not an opera and was seriously lacking in plot, characters, and quality music. Everyone seems happy, especially Raoul who ends the number by standing on a railing and singing:

_In MAAAAAAAYYYYY!_

Someplace, somewhere the shadowy lump wanders a hall and evil music plays on some unnamed instrument.


End file.
